


Back To You

by BlueBamboo



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Horror, Psychological Horror, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBamboo/pseuds/BlueBamboo
Summary: She had plagued his dreams for the past 27 years. In fact she had damn near tortured him. Pennywise the dancing clown had never known kindness until her. The flame haired softly spoken girl who had managed to claw her way deep beneath his ever morphing skin to the point he was certain he had descended into madness.Now, it's 1989 he's awake, she is long gone from the sleepy town of Derry and somehow, on the grace of the heavans, he has managed to keep his promise of letting her be. Until within the pitiful Losers Club he notices a second flame haired girl no older than 13 who bares a remarkable resemblance to...her.Elle is a smart, sharp mouthed girl with an attitude to boot who may just be the key Pennywise needs to be reunited with the human he thought he'd lost.The human he loves.





	1. Introduction:-

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Yeah... I went there.
> 
> This is my first ever Pennywise fic, I will try my absolute best to keep our murderous clown in character though he will have his softer moments when our OC is involved.
> 
> Please feel free to comment. Constructive criticism is welcomed. If you have an idea for a scene in the story let me know and I'll try to incorporate your scene into the story.

No.

Despite the silken frills enveloping the pale skin of his neck, wrists and ankles and the constant eccentricity of his personality, he was certain he was not crazy. No. He was not hungry either, it had been less than two hours since his last meal. He could easily go another five or six. That notion too was quickly discarded

Was he... Sick?

Thinking back to the brunette boy who'd been coughing and spluttering upon his death had Pennywise momentarily wondering if his billion year existence on the blue planet had somehow lowered his immunity to pathetic human illnesses. Then again, he'd yet to be ill so it couldn't be an illness. So what was that feeling in the deepest pit of his gut? The fluttering that exploded to life when he was close to her.

He towered over her sleeping form, large intense blue orbs eyeing her with uncertainty. He knew she was leaving come sunrise. This was the last time he was going to see her. Pennywise growled lowly, why should that bother him? Why? Well, because he'd grown fond of her. Perhaps more than just fond... Although he wouldn't admit that to himself, he was ravinous again suddenly. Though he sensed it was a different kind of hunger that troubled him. A hunger that was unfamiliar to him. One that had him drooling more than usual and left an unusual aching, stiffening sensation in his sexual organ. 

Fuck. 

What had she done to him. What had he allowed her to do to him?

He wasn't normally soft or caring, he prided himself on his ability to be able to rip the fragile little fleshy things apart with little to no sense of remorse. But not her, never her.

It puzzled him. 

She sighed contendedly in her sleep, rolling onto her side rich red curls splaying across the unmarred white pillowcase like a forest fire spreading through the firs. Softly Pennywise brushed a gloved finger over her cheek, pushing back a strayed lock. He would miss her something terrible. He'd miss the kindness she gave him, he'd miss her laughter, warmth and the pure joy she radiated. He'd miss watching her dance on the kitchen tiles from his hiding spot in the shadows, he'd miss her complete acceptance of him. Of what he was. 

He'd miss the way she fitted against his many forms perfectly, even in the usual clown form she fitted him like a glove. Like she'd been made especially for him.

Beyond the ripped, grubby netting the first rays of morning light pooled into the room setting her hair alight in tones of glittering Amber and Garnet. He pondered whether he should wake her, he'd do almost anything to gaze into those silver-green eyes one last time and see them looking back at him with content, to re-live that night at the quarry. Her mouth against his had felt strange, the beating of her pulse beneath his fingerpads alluring. 

Strange, wonderful little human of his.

There was a different sensation now, a knotting, nauseating sensation almost like he wanted to regurgitate. Her alarm beeped away and he smiled softly as she flung out an arm tiredly throwing the infernal thing across the room as she slowly kicked off the covers. 

Love. 

Was this... Love? 

He watched from his usual spot in the shadows when she tossed her bags into the beaten car and turned to give one last look at her childhood home. The memories she'd created there. The lover she never dreamed she'd have found in the monster that dwelled in the sewers.

He watched as she got in the car. He watched as she pinned back her hair messily. He watched as she started the ignition. He watched as she drove away.

That night he learned why humans cried.


	2. The Eyes In The Storm Drain - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pennywise awakens after his 27 year slumber... She is gone, the world seems to have changed once again... And he's hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story follows the 2017 version of IT. With Bill Skarsgard portraying Pennywise. Back To You is the first installment of a 3 book series. I shall try to update at least once a week.
> 
> Please do leave kudos or comment, constructive criticism is welcomed.

Rain so heavy it slanted pelted windows unshielded by shutters. It wasn't a rare occurance for it to rain in the sleepy town of Derry but it seemed of late the skies were permanently pissing water. A fact that was insignificant to the small boy stood outside his brothers bedroom door plucking up the courage to knock. He knew Billy was sick. He'd had the displeasure of witnessing last night's half digested dinner expell itself forcefully from his nose as well as mouth. 

He raised a miniature hand and rapped twice on the painted wood. Footsteps shuffled towards the door then it creaked open, revealing the pale, somewhat tired face of his older brother who managed to muster a small cocked smile.

"Can you make me a boat, Billy, I wanna play and the ones I make never float!"

Opening the door wider in an invitation to the boy, Billy padded back across the room. Stalling at the dresser placed beneath the window cill to rip a page from his parchment book. He settled down into the comfort of the bed as he began folding the paper in precise lines. Not paying any attention to the child who now stood at the window, only just taking in the severity of the weather beyond the confines of the house. 

"Are you sure it's okay, Billy?" 

The small, innocent voice piped up as he turned to eye his brother questioningly. 

"D-Don't be a whimp. I-I would go w-with you if.." 

He paused for dramatic effect, tossing in a few fake coughs for good measure. 

"I w-weren't d-d-dying." 

The boys eyes widened. And he made his way gingerly towards the bed. 

"You're not dying!" 

Laughing softly, Billy made his final fold, running his fingers below the rim to erect the boat he peered up at his brother. 

"D-didnt you see the v-v-vomit coming out of my nose t-this morning?" 

"That's Disgusting!" 

"Go get the w-wax..." 

Georgie's eyes widened slightly as he briefly gazed at the bedroom door, images of the dank, shadow enveloped basement flashing before his eyes. 

"... From the cellar?"

"Y-you want i-it to f-f-float, don't you?" 

He looked unsure, but his want for the boat outweighed his fear of the basement and what might lurk down there. If only slightly. He gave a heavy sigh, little legs carrying him across the hallway and down the stairs where he was met with the melodic sound of his mother's piano as her fingers swept across the keys elegantly. 

He scooted past quickly, wanting to avoid her attention before she grabbed him and forced him to endure another boring lesson. The kitchen led directly to the basement. 

He halted rapidly. 

Staring at the ajar door half swallowed by an ominous shadow. He could just about make out the top step peeking out at him from the blackness. Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat he made slowly towards the door, telling himself he was brave. He could do it. The light was broken, but that was okay. All he had to do was get down there, grab the wax and get the hell back out! Easy. Quesiness settled in his stomach as he descended the steps. An unsettling feeling began to grown in his gut as he hit the bottom step.

Nothing but the sound of his laboured breathing sounded. Even the piano seemed to have been silenced by some unknown force. Looking around the small room was a familiarity to the boy, but that made it no less frightening. Especially with what looked like a large pair of glowing Amber eyes seemingly glaring out at him from the darkness on the opposite side of the cellar. 

His heart skipped a beat and he scurried for the nearest source of light. 

A flashlight revealed the eyes to be nothing more than two unused bulbs his father left on the shelf. 

"where's the wax?" 

He whispered, almost expecting someone to answer him. Minutes later he was back up in Billy's room. Tin of wax in hand, watching with glee as the older, floppy haired boy coated the paper boat now named SS Georgie in a thick layer of heavily scented wax. He handed the boat to his brother with a small smile. 

"She's ready c-captain!" 

"It's perfect!" 

Billy shot the boy a small chuckle and handed him that waterproof yellow mac his mother had purchased from the yard sale down the road that he found horrid. 

"She, Georgie, you call boats she." 

Georgie grabbed the boat eagerly, shouting his thanks as he legged it down the stairs and through the entry hall, skidding to a holt at the front door he paused only to clumsily yank up his hood before flinging the door open and setting off into the rain. 

For mid October it was chillier than normal, each exhale materialised as whispy white puffs that were soon beaten to the ground by the droplets. He paid no mind to the chill nipping at his neck as he dropped his boat into the miniature stream at the side of the road created by the overflows inability to cope with such amounts of water. He paid no mind to the thick sheets of rain pounding harshly against his back as he happily skipped behind his boat, his skip morphing to a jog, then a sprint when the boats speed began to pick up. 

He couldn't keep up with it. 

It was as though it was being pulled beyond his reach each time he began to catch up with it. It swayed and half tipped on each bend, momentarily tipping on its side completely when a rock below the pooling stream snagged it. But before Georgie could retrieve it, it had wiggled itself free and was sailing straight towards an open overflow drain. 

"NO!!" 

His fingertips just scraped the paper sails before the drain claimed it.


	3. The Eyes In The Storm Drain - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Georgie makes a fatal mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments or kudos! Else Pennywise won't be pleased!

Falling to his knees with an almighty splash Georgie groaned and peered meekly into the seemingly never ending blackness of the storm drain. Desperately seeking sight of the paper boat his brother had taken the time to make.

"Billy's gonna kill me!"

He muttered, ignoring the icy spill of water sweeping around his wrists and soaking the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he planted his palm flat against the road and inched closer. Craning his neck in an attempt to look deeper. 

It was then that he noticed it. 

Them... 

Out of nowhere they apperated, and such an alluring, almost glowing golden-amber in colour. He'd never seen any creature with eyes that resembled anything like what this... Thing had. Nor had he ever seen eyes so large, round and void of emotion. 

"Hiya, Georgie!" 

The voice was as unusual and alluring as the friendly face which slowly revealed only the lower part of itself from the smeg. A clown with skin alabaster and pasty, plump, slightly pouted lips that failed to contain two abnormally large buck teeth were painted a deep velvet red which extended in long perfectly etched lines, melting over the curvature of his cheeks. Georgie could just about make out fluffy frills enveloping the clowns neck. 

"What a nice boat! Do you want it back?" 

The clown held the boat up teasingly close up to the boys face. 

"Yes, please." 

"You look like a nice boy. I bet you have a lot of friends!"

Georgie failed to notice the boat lower just an inch. 

"Um. Three. But my brothers my best, best." 

"Where's he?" 

"... In bed. Sick." 

The child replied, grimacing at the thought. 

"I bet I could cheer him up, I'll give him a balloon... Do you want a balloon too, Georgie?" 

Now clearly uncomfortable Georgie paused, weighing the clown up momentarily before swallowing thickly and brushing his sopping fringe from his eyes. 

"I'm not supposed to take stuff from strangers." 

He countered. Watching those burning amber eyes widen briefly before the clown gave a wide smile. 

An inviting smile. 

"Oh!" 

He gave what could only be described as a small, squeaking giggle moving his white face closer to the entrance of the drain. 

"Well, I'm Pennywise, the dancing clown. Pennywise.."

He gestured to himself for good measure. 

"Yes! Meet Georgie. Georgie... Meet Pennywise. There. Now we aren't strangers, are we?" 

Giggling at the clowns stupid antics put the boy at ease. He shifted a little closer. 

"What are you doing in the sewer?" 

"Storm blew me away." 

Pennywise answered simply. As though it were a line he'd rehearsed a thousand times before. 

"Blew the whole circus away. Can you smell the circus, Georgie, there's peanuts, cotton candy, hot dogs, annnnddd?" 

He drew out the n, eyes flickering wildly. Georgie inhaled deeply. Stomach rumbling appreciatively at the heady aroma of heavily buttered popcorn invading his senses. 

"Popcorn?" 

"Popcorn! Is that your favourite?" 

Georgie only nodded. 

"Mine too!" 

A vivacious, if not slightly forced laugh forced itself from Pennywise, but the child failed to pick up on the quick deterioration of the the clowns mood, the funny popping noise he made were misleading. It was only when he allowed himself to further relax and released a small laugh the clowns features fell completely. No longer did Georgie find him funny or sweet, but down right creepy. His chiseled chin was dipped to his collar but his eyes still peered upwards in a predatory manner. That wasn't the most unsettling thing, though. It was that eye. 

The right one. 

It seemed to have a mind of its own as it wondered off slightly, appearing to look over the child's shoulder. 

Perhaps he shouldn't have stopped to chat with strange clowns hiding in the sewers. Besides. Bill would be worrying about him back at home. 

"Uh. I should get going now."

"Without your boat? You don't want to lose it, Georgie. Bill will kill you." 

Turns out, it wasn't Bill Georgie needed to worry about. That clown happily chowed down on his arm, then his other arm and all other appendages within minutes. His hunger only marginally sated, but for now that could wait. He'd caught a scent that he'd thought he'd never have the privilege of inhaling again. One of sweetly spiced vanilla and coconut. It was extremely faint, watered down by the ferocity of the rain but the breeze carried it directly to him. Closing off all other senses he backed away from the drain. Allowing his nose to lead him directly to the school.


End file.
